The Family Business
by CanYouBelieveSomeoneActually
Summary: As hunters, Sam, Dean, and Olive's lives were anything but routine. Their life consisted of hours of boredom interspersed with moments of sheer terror and horror. But, that's normal to them, the sheer terror is just another day at the office, or graveyard/abandoned building/cave etc, in their case. So they stick to the life, hunt evil sonsabitches, and fuck shit up.
1. Chapter 1

This book contains:

1.) A female lead character who strongly dislikes (because hate is a strong word) when people label her as 'short bitch', 'weak bitch', or 'snobby, unappreciative bitch', (because she, of all people, knows that you have to appreciate the little things) but doesn't mind if people call her 'rude bitch', 'psycho bitch', or just plain ol' 'bitch'.

Because, let's face it, she's a bitch. A funny bitch, yes, but still a bitch. A rude, uncaring bitch. In fact, most of the people she's slept with would probably tell you she's demonic. Especially Doug Nethers. Oh, Doug Nethers got _real_ close and personal, if you know what I mean.

But, that's beside the point.

She's also sarcastic, cruel, and bad at math.

Whatever, man. Screw math. Math can go suck a penis. Math is stupid and irrelevant at this moment in time.

Keep in mind, though, that she _does_ have a heart underneath all her flaws. A shriveled, cold, black heart.

Only certain things provoke said heart, and those certain things are cute dogs, babies hiccuping, and little kids swearing. Oh, and her brothers. Her brothers definitely play a big role in keeping her black heart beating, literally.

She will probably (most likely) disappoint you many times throughout this book, maybe even make you hate her and stop reading.

She has practically a billion flaws, which are mostly her attitude and her aggression, but I think that those many flaws are what make her more realistic, more _human._ Well, to me at least. That might just make her uninteresting to you.

2.) Swears. Lots and lots. Probably more than any normal person would use or, at the most, be comfortable with.

3.) Hilarity. Well, occasionally, anyway. I can't make this _whole book_ hilarious, I'd be disrespecting the series that made this book possible. I have to add _some_ character development in.

4.) Corny Jokes/Dad Jokes. Such as:

Person 1: "I'm bored."

Person 2: "Hi bored, I'm *insert name here*

Or,

"Jamaican me crazy!"/ "European your pants!"

Be warned.

5.) Feels. Lots of feels and sadness because that's what the show gives me, so that's what I work with. Sorry, dudes. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

Enjoy the story!

* * *

 _Lawrence, Kansas_

 _22 years ago_

A woman, Mary Winchester, wearing a white nightgown, carries a small child, her two-year-old daughter, Olivia, into a dark room. Her four-year-old son Dean walks in behind her. Olivia is wearing a small Mickey Mouse footed-onesie, while Dean is wearing a plaid pajama shirt and pants.

"Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother."

Mary turns on the lights: it's the nursery of a baby, Sam, who is lying in his crib and looking over at Mary, Olive, and Dean. Mary sets Olive down and Olive leans over the side of the crib, kissing Sam on the forehead. "Nah-nigh', Sammy." _Though it sounded more like 'Nah-nigh', Sabby', because of Olive's quiet, nasally voice._ Dean repeats his younger sisters' actions, then says; "'Night, Sammy."

Mary leans over the crib. "Goodnight, love." She brushes Sam's hair back and kisses his forehead.

John walks into the room. "Hey Olive! Hey Dean!"

"Daddy!" Olive and Dean shout simultaneously. He pulls them in for a hug, then picks Dean up.

"So, d'ya think Sammy's ready to throw a football yet?" John asks, smiling as Dean shakes his head.

"No, daddy." Dean giggles.

Olive looks over at her mother as she approaches and raises her arms out to her. Mary picks Olive up. "Say goodnight to daddy and Dean, sweetheart." She tells Olive.

Olive reaches over and wraps her arms around her fathers' neck and plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Nah nigh', daddy." Olive whispers into his cheek. John smiles and kisses the top of her head, before she lets go. "Nah nigh', De." She repeats the actions with Dean and then lays black into her mothers' side.

"Night, Olly." Dean says back.

Mary looks down at Olive as she lays her head on her shoulder and sticks her thumb in her mouth. Mary makes a mental note to check when to break her out of that. When she asked Dean's dentist about it, he had said around three or four, but he also said all children are different. She looks back up at John and asks, "You got 'im?"

"Got 'im." John hugs Dean closer. "Sweet dreams, Sam. Night, Olive."

John carries Dean out of the nursery, sending one last smile back at his wife who turns off the light and carries Olive to the small room that was actually meant to be an office, but was big enough to hold a crib, dresser, toy bin and rocking chair, so it became a bedroom.

Mary lays Olive down and whispers, "Goodnight, snowflake." kissing Olive's forehead. Mary makes another mental note to see when Olive was old enough for a 'big girl bed.' She stands to her full height, pulls up the side of the contraption, and walks over to the door, looking back at her child one last time before shutting off the light and walking out of the room.

* * *

Lights flicker on a baby monitor sitting on a nightstand next to a photo of Mary and John. Strange noises come through the monitor. Mary, asleep in bed, stirs. She turns on the light on the nightstand. "John?" Mary turns: she's alone. She gets up.

She walks down the hall to Sam's nursery. John, or more accurately, his silhouette, stands over Sam's crib. "John? Is he hungry?"

Silhouette-John turns his head. "Shhh."

"All right." Mary heads back down the hallway. The light by the stairs is flickering. She frowns and goes to tap at it till the light steadies. "Hm."

More flickering light is coming from downstairs: she investigates. A war movie is on TV and John fell asleep watching it. _If John's right here,_ Mary realizes, _then the man upstairs isn't John and is dangerous._ She runs back upstairs. "Sammy! Sammy!" Mary enters Sam's nursery and stops short.

Upstairs, Mary screams and John wakes up. "Mary?" John scrambles from the chair. "Mary!" John runs upstairs. He bursts through the closed door of the nursery. "Mary."

The room is quiet and appears empty except for Sam awake in his crib and John. John glances around and pushes down the side of Sam's crib. "Hey, Sammy. You okay?"

Something dark drips next to Sam's head. John touches it. Two more drops land on the back of his hand. _Is that...blood?_ John looks up. Mary is sprawled across the ceiling, the stomach of her nightgown red with blood, staring at John and struggling to pull in breaths. John collapses onto the floor, staring at Mary. "No! Mary!" Mary bursts into flame. The fire spreads over the ceiling. John stares, frozen. Sam bursts into tears, screaming and crying.

After hearing the scream, Dean ran from his room and into his sisters', who was sitting awake and staring at the doorway, to check if she was okay. He pushed the side of the crib/bed down and helped her out, grasping her small hand in his. Together, they walk down the hall to investigate. "Mommy! Daddy!" They both cry out, looking from their father in the ground to their mother on the ceiling in fear.

John, once again aware that he's not alone, gets up and scoops Sam out of his crib and rushes out of the room. He shoves Sam at Dean, yelling, "Take your brother and sister outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!"

Dean turns and runs, Olive's hand still held in a death grip in his own. John turns back to the nursery. "Mary!" Mary can barely be seen underneath the flames. "No!"

Dean runs outside, holding Sam. He squeezes Olive's hand a little tighter. "It's okay. I got you guys." He reassures. Dean turns to look up at Sam's window, watching the red and yellow flames collide. Olive looks at him, at Sammy, then up at the window and bursts into tears, wanting one of her parents to pick her up and hug her close.

John runs outside, scoops up Dean and Olive, Sam still in Dean's arms, and whisks them away. "I gotcha." Fire explodes out of Sam's nursery window.

* * *

Across the street from the house, John, Olive, and Dean sit on the hood of the Impala, an exhausted Sam cradled in John's arms. Olive had stopped crying a little while back, and was now leaning into her fathers' side, tired and confused. Dean is leaning against his other side, staring as the firefighters, who had briefly examined them all, packed up their equipment. John looks up at the remnants of the fire, a sad expression on his face. After a while, he gets off the hood and gets a sleeping Sam in his car seat, a droopy eyed Olive in hers, then drives off, never to be seen at that house again.

* * *

"Daddy?" Olive asks, her big, bright green eyes (which were very similar to both Mary and Dean's) staring at John's back as he sat, hunched over his journal.

He turns, looking at her through pain-filled, tired brown eyes and asks: "What is it, Liv?"

"Where Mommy go?" Her quiet voice barely reaches him, but when it does, he grimaces. Olive tilts her head and stares at him, concern blanketing her delicate features.

"She left, Olive." He mutters, turning back to his 'studies'.

"But _where_ she go, Daddy?"

"Away." He turns back around, staring at her with tear-filled eyes.

"Why?"

"Because she did." His voice is strained.

"But wh-"

"Because she DIED, OLIVIA! SHE'S DEAD AND SHE'S NOT COMING BACK!" He snaps, wincing as his words register in his own brain. He expects Olive to cry and run off, in search of Dean, but she looks to him with curious eyes.

"Mommy...dead?" She asks, not quite understanding what that word actually meant.

He simply nods, his head in his hands. "Mary's dead, and she ain't coming back. Not now, not ever." His voice breaks and he starts to cry.

"Daddy, you's 'kay?" Olive steps a few feet closer to her father and places a small, yet comforting, hand on his bicep.

He looks up at her, swallowing the lump in his throat, and nods. "Yeah, sprite, I'm okay." His voice shakes.

"No, you's cwyin'." She shakes her head, the short, blonde curls shaking along with it. "You's on'y cwy when you's sad." She walks in front of him. "'Mere Daddy, me hugs you." She reaches up to him and he picks her up, pulling her close as she wraps her arms around his neck. "You's no cwy Daddy, p'ease?" She pulls back and looks at his face.

He nods, a small, yet sad, smile lighting up his face as his tears dry. She nods once and lays her head on his shoulder again, fisting the back of his shirt with one hand and sucking her thumb in the other one.

They sat there for a few minutes, John rubbing Olive's back while Olive sucked her thumb with closed eyes, until Dean walked in, looking at them with curious green eyes. John recalled a time that Mary had put Dean down for a nap and said; "You know, John, one day, those eyes'll grow, and they'll swallow him whole.", but quickly pushed it aside.

"What is it, little man?" He asks. Dean simply walks forward and holds his arms out, asking for Olive so he can carry her to one of the small cots that the motel had provided for her and Sam. John shakes his head. "Nah, kiddo. I got 'er." He stands from his chair follows Dean out of the kitchenette, down the hallway and through a door that lead to a room with one bed (in which Dean slept), two cots (that were pushed against the wall), and tiny loveseat that John slept on (though he had to curl into a ball to fit on it).

John places Olive down in her cot, checked on Sam, and then tucked Dean in, before stepping out of the room and walking back to the kitchenette. He slumped into the chair and placed his head in his hands, forcing the tears back.

 _No,_ he thought to himself, _I will not think of Mary. I will not think of Mary, or her blonde hair, or her soft voice, or her smile, I will not. Oh, who am I kidding? Don't let this be real. Please, don't let this be real._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Sam and Jessica's Apartment**_

Sam and Jess lie in bed, asleep back to back. Jess shifts position. A sound outside the room, like an opening window, becomes audible. Sam's eyes snap open. He leaves the bedroom and looks around the apartment.

Footsteps. A man walks past the strings of beads at the far end of the hall. Sam moves to another part of the apartment and waits. The man enters the room. Sam lunges forward and grabs the man at the shoulder. The man knocks Sam's arm away and aims a strike at him, who ducks. The man grabs Sam's arm, swings him around, and shoves him back. He kicks and is blocked, then pushed back into another room. The man elbows Sam in the face, so Sam kicks at his head. The man ducks and swings and Sam blocks. The man knocks Sam down and pins him to the floor, one hand at Sam's neck and the other holding his wrist.

"Whoa, easy, tiger."

Sam's breathing is hard and fast. "Dean?" Dean laughs. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's 'cause you're out of practice." Sam grabs Dean's hand and yanks, slamming his heel into his back and him to the floor. "Or not." Sam taps Dean twice where he is holding him. "Get off of me."

Sam rolls to his feet and pulls Dean up. "What the hell are you doing here? And where the hell is Olive?"

"Well, I was looking for a beer.-"

"And I'm right here. My damn shirt got caught on a fuckin' nail or something, man. Faulty windows suck ass." Olive mumbles the last part. Sam jumps at the voice. Olive walks over to Dean.

"Now, what the hell are you two doing here?"

"Okay. All right. We gotta talk."

"Uh, the phone?"

"If either of us had called, would you have picked up?"

Jess turns the light on. She is wearing short shorts and a cropped Smurf shirt. "Sam?"

Olive, Sam and Dean turn their heads in unison.

"Jess. Hey. Uh, Dean, Olive, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." Dean looks at her appreciatively. Olive rolls her eyes.

"Wait, your brother and sister Dean and Olive?"

Jess smiles. Sam nods. Dean grins at her and moves closer. Olive's eyes roll up into the back of her head as she rolls them, again, shaking her head in annoyance. "Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league."

"Just let me put something on." Jess turns to go but Dean's voice stops her.

"No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously."

Dean goes back over to Sam and Olive without taking his eyes off Jess. Sam watches him, his expression stony. Olive just rolls her eyes, for the third time in the last 5 minutes or so.

"Anyway, we gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business." Dean smiles.

"But, uh, nice meeting you." Olive adds, trying not to make Dean and herself look like dickwads.

"No." Sam goes over to Jess and wraps an arm around her shoulders. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

"Okay." Dean glances at Olive then turns to look at them both straight on. "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later." Sam says, looking between his siblings.

Olive sighs and ducks her head, then looks back up. "Dad's on a _hunting_ trip. And he _hasn't been home_ in a _few_ _days_."

Sam's expression doesn't change while he takes this in. Jess glances up at him. "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

* * *

Sam, Dean and Olive head downstairs. "I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you guys."

"You're not hearing me, Sam. Dad's missing. We need your help finding him." Dean reminds him, again.

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? How 'bout the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's _always_ missing, and he's _always_ fine." Sam glares at the back of Dean's head. Olive gets ready to break up a fight between her siblings.

Dean stops and turns around, causing Olive and Sam to stop as well. "Not for this long. Now are you gonna coming with us or not?" Dean growls.

"I'm not." He says icily.

" _Why_ not?"

"I swore I was done hunting. For _good_."

"Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't _that_ bad." Olive mutters

Dean starts downstairs again. Sam and Olive follow.

"Oh, it wasn't? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."

Dean stops at the door to the outside. "Well, what was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark."

"Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."

"Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her." Dean glances outside. "But we still haven't found the stupid demon. So we kill everything we _can_ find."

"We save a lot of people doing it, too." Dean says pointedly.

A pause. "You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Sam growls, ignoring the muttered 'Oh god, here we go again' from Olive. Dean rolls his eyes and slams the door open. "The weapon training, the melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors." They cross the parking lot to the Impala.

"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?"

"No. Not normal. _Safe_."

"And _that's_ why you ran away?" Olive asks, narrowing her eyes at him.

Sam looks away. "I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Dean turns to him. Sam is silent. "We can't do this alone."

"Yes you can."

Olive and Dean look down. "Yeah, well, we don't want to."

Sam sighs and looks down; thinking, then up. "What was he hunting?"

Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment. He props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter. "All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"

"So when Dad left, why didn't you two go with him?"

"We were working our own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans." Olive explains.

"Dad let you guys go on a hunting trip by yourselves?"

Dean looks over at Sam, eyebrows pulled together. "I'm twenty-six, dude, and I've been watching after her ass since I was 4." He pulls some papers out of a folder. "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy."

Dean hands one of the papers to Olive, who hands it to Sam. "They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA."

Sam reads it and glances up. "So? Maybe he was kidnapped. It does happen, ya know."

"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April." Dean tosses down another article for each date he mentions. "Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years."

Olive takes the article back from Sam and picks up the rest of the stack, putting them back in the folder. "All men, all on the same five-mile stretch of road." Olive finishes Dean's speech. Dean pulls a bag out of another part of the arsenal.

"It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. He hadn't called or anything since, which is bad enough." Dean grabs a handheld tape recorder. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday." He presses play. The recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up.

 _"Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Just be careful, Dean-and watch after Olive. We're all in danger."_ Dean presses stop.

"You know there's EVP on that, right?" Sam glances down at his siblings. Olive's mouth is pulled into a sideways smirk, and Dean's mouth is turned up in a smile.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shakes his head, rolling his eyes. "All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." Dean presses play again.

"I can never go home..." He presses stop.

"Never go home."

Dean drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it.

Olive sighs, clearly fed up. "You know, in almost two _fucking_ years we haven't bothered you, haven't asked you for a damn thing."

Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back. "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him." Dean nods. "But I _have_ to be back first thing Monday. Just wait here."

Sam turns to go back to the apartment. He turns back when Dean speaks. "What's first thing Monday?"

"I have this...I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"I can't just 'skip it', Dean. It's a law school interview, and it's practically my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?" Dean smirks.

"We got a deal or not?" Sam asks impatiently. Dean nods. Sam gives a curt nod and turns again, bounding up the small amount of stairs.

* * *

Sam is packing a duffel bag. He pulls out a large hook-shaped knife and slides it inside as Jess comes into the room.

"Wait, you're taking off?" Sam looks up, hoping she didn't see the giant knife he _just_ shoved in the duffle. "Is this about your dad? Is he all right?"

"Yeah. You know, just a little family drama." Sam goes over to the dresser and turns on the lamp on top of it.

"They said he was on some kind of hunting trip." Jess sits on the bed. Sam rummages in one of the drawers and comes out with a couple shirts, which go in the duffel.

"Oh, yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin, he's probably got Jim, Jack, and José along with him. I'm just going to go bring him back."

"What about the interview?" Jess's eyebrows shoot up as she asks.

"I'll make the interview. This is only for a couple days." Sam goes around the bed. Jess gets up and follows.

"Sam, I mean, please." Sam stops and turns. "Just stop for a second. You sure you're okay?

Sam laughs a little. "I'm fine, Jess." A smile rests on his face.

"It's just...you won't even talk about your family. And now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend a weekend with them? _And_ with Monday coming up, which is a really big deal."

"Hey. Everything's going to be just fine. I'll be back in time, I promise." He leans down, kisses her on the cheek and walks out.

"At least tell me where you're going." She calls after him.

* * *

Dean comes out of the convenience mart carrying junk food.

Sam is sitting in the shotgun seat with the door open, rifling through a box of tapes. Olive is pumping gas.

"Hey!" Dean shouts. Sam leans out and looks at him. Olive glances up over the car at him before bringing her gaze back to the rising numbers on the pump behind her. "You guys want breakfast?"

"No, thanks." Sam mutters.

"Doritos and Dr. Pepper?" Olive asks, shakes the gas out of the nozzle, and puts it back in the pump. Dean nods, says "You know it.", and Olive grins widely. "Then yes."

"So how'd you pay for that?" Sam looks over his shoulder at Dean. "You three still running credit card scams?"

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career." Olive says. She holds her arms above her head to stretch, revealing a small sliver of slightly tanned skin before sighing in satisfactory at the small crack the movement produced.

"Yeah. Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam asks as Olive opens the door to the backseat, sits down, swings her legs inside the car and closes the door.

"Uh, Burt Aframian." Dean gets into the driver seat and puts his Coke and chips down. "And his kids Hector and Jazmine. Only scored two cards out of the deal, though. Olly's gonna need a card."

"It's Olive." Olive mutters reflexively. Dean closes the door and rolls his eyes. He tosses a bag of cool ranch Doritos back to Olive, then hands her the promised Dr. Pepper.

"That sounds about right." Sam looks down at the box in his lap as Olive rips open the bag of chips and stuffs one in her mouth. "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection." There are at least a dozen cassettes in the box on Sam's lap.

"Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two," Sam holds up a tape for every band he names. "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean takes the box labeled Metallica from Sam. "It's like the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape in the player. He looks at Olive expectantly. She takes a gulp of her soda and sighs, dramatically, before finishing the words she had been reciting back to Dean for almost two years.

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." She says, smirking at the glare Sam sends at her.

Dean drops the Metallica box back in the box of tapes and starts the engine.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old kid. It's Sam, okay?"

"Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud." Dean shouts over the opening cords of _Back In Black_ by _AC/DC._ Olive chuckles.

Dean drives off.

* * *

Sam is talking on his cell phone. "Thank you."  
Sam closes his phone. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that's something, I guess."

Dean glances over at Sam, back at Olive, then back at the road. At a bridge ahead of them, there are two police cars and several officers. "Check it out."

Sam leans forward for a closer look.

Dean pulls up and they take a long look before he turns off the engine. Dean opens the glove compartment and pulls out a box full of ID cards with his, Olive and John's faces. He picks one out and grins at Sam, who stares.

"Let's go." They get out of the car.

Dean and Olive walk into the crime scene like they belong there. Sam walks in slightly awkward, but also like he belongs.

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?"

The deputy looks up when Dean starts talking and straightens up to talk to him.

"And who are you?"

Dean flashes his badge. "Federal marshals."

"You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you?"

Olive laughs. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." She goes over to the car. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam asks, standing straighter when the deputy turns to him. The deputy nods.

"Town like this, everybody knows everybody."

Olive circles the car, looking around. "Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?"

"No. Not so far as we can tell."

"So what's the theory?" Olive goes over to Sam and Dean.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean mutters. Sam stomps on Dean's foot.

"Thank you for your time."

Sam starts to walk away. Dean and Olive follow.

The deputy watches them go. Dean smacks Sam on the head. "Ow! What was that for?.

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?"

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?"

Dean looks at Sam and moves in front of him, forcing Sam to stop walking and Olive, who was paying paying more attention to the tall, brown haired detective with the great ass, to walk straight into him.

"Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourself."

Sam clears his throat and looks over Dean's shoulder. Dean turns. It's the sheriff and two FBI agents.

"Can I help you three?"

"No, sir, we were just leaving." Dean says.

As the FBI agents walk past Olive, she nods at each of them. "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully."

Dean, Olive and Sam head past the sheriff, who turns to watch them go.

* * *

A young woman is tacking up posters with Troy's face and the caption: _"MISSING TROY SQUIRE"_. Dean, Sam and Olive approach her.

"I'll bet you that's her." Dean glances at his siblings to see if either disagree, but Olive gives a curt nod and Sam says; "Yeah."

They walk up to the young woman. "You must be Amy."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, Troy told us about you. I'm Dean, this is Sammy, we're his uncle's, and Olive over there is his aunt."

"He never mentioned you to me." Amy walks away. Sam, Dean and Olive walk with her.

"Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around."

Another young woman comes up to Amy and puts a hand on her arm. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?"

* * *

The five of them are sitting in a booth, Dean, Sam and Olive (who was squished between her brothers) opposite Amy and the other lady, who turned out to be Rachel.

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did." Amy explains.

"He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" Sam asks.

Amy shakes her head. "No. Nothing I can remember."

"I like your necklace." Olive blurts.

Amy holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it. "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents," Amy laughs. "with all that devil stuff."

Olive laughs a little and looks down, then up. Her brothers look down at her. "Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." Olive explains.

"Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries." Dean takes his arm off the back of the seat and leans forward. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..."

Amy and Rachel look at each other.

"What is it?"

"Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." Rachel shrugs.

"What do they talk about?" All three Winchesters ask in chorus.

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean and Olive exchange looks, then look at Sam, who watches Rachel attentively, nodding. "Well, supposedly she's still out there." Sam nods. "She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

Sam, Dean and Olive glance at each other.

* * *

Dean types _"Female Murder Hitchhiking"_ into the search bar, nothing. Dean replaces _"Hitchhiking"_ with _"Centennial Highway"_ with the same results. Sam and Olive are sitting behind him, staring at the screen with impressive concentration.

"Let me try." Sam offers.

Dean smacks Sam's hand away, Olive snickers. "I got it."

Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way and takes over, while Olive tries to compose herself, keyword being 'tries'.

"Dude!" Dean hits Sam on the shoulder. "You're such a control freak."

"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam ignores him.

"Yeah." Dean and Olive reply simultaneously.

"Well, maybe it's not murder." Sam replaces _"Murder"_ with _"Suicide"_ and finds an article entitled _"Suicide on Centennial"_. Both Dean and Olive glance at Sam. "This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river."

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asks

"Yeah." Sam answers, eyes fixed on the screen.

"What?" Olive raises her eyebrows.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die." Olive winces in sympathy.

Dean raises his eyebrows. "Hm."

The article has a picture of Joseph next to a picture of Sylvania Bridge.

" _'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,'_ said husband Joseph Welch."

"The bridge look familiar to you?" Olive asks, glancing at her brothers as they shared a look.

* * *

Dean, Olive and Sam walk along the bridge, then stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean states.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam looks over at Dean.

Olive glances at them, then looks out at the water again before saying; "Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him, so..." She lets her sentence hang in the air.

Dean continues walking. Sam and Olive follow. "Okay, so now what?" Olive asks, looking over at Dean expectantly.

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while."

Sam stops. "Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by-"

Dean turns around. "Monday. Right. The interview." Olive sighs, shoulders slumping slightly.

"Yeah." Sam says awkwardly.

"Yeah, I forgot."

"You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Olive asks, walking towards Sam.

"Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

Sam steps closer. "No, and she's not ever going to know."

"That's a healthy ass relationship. You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." Dean turns around and looks between his siblings. Olive and Sam stare eachother down.

"And who's that?"

"You're one of us. You're a hunter."

"No. I'm not like you guys. This is _not_ going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility to-" Olive starts, but Sam cuts her off.

"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looked like. Hell, I doubt you remember her either. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she _isn't_ _coming_ _back_."

Olive grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge, nostrils flared and chest heaving. " _Don't_ _talk about her like that_." She growls through clenched teeth , face red with anger. Dean's eyes widen at the sight of his average sized sister glaring down his behemoth of a brother. Olive releases Sam, but still glares at him when he glances at her.

Dean feels a chill that make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and turns around. He sees Constance standing at the edge of the bridge. "Sam. Olive."

Olive comes to stand to the left of Dean, Sam standing to the right of him, still weary of Olive. Constance looks over at them, then steps forward off the edge. The Winchesters run to the railing and look over.

"Where'd she go?" Dean voices the thoughts of both himself and his siblings.

"I don't know."

Behind them, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on. Dean, Sam and Olive turn to look. "What the-" Dean starts.

"Who the fuck is driving your car?" Olive asks. Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. Sam glances at them, but Olive's eyes stay on the car, which jerks into motion, heading straight for them. They turn and run.

"Go! Go!" Sam shouts

The car is moving faster than they are; when it gets too close, the siblings dive over the railing. The car comes to a halt. Sam has caught himself on the edge of the bridge and is hanging on. He pulls himself up onto the bridge and looks around. "Dean? Olive?"

Below, a filthy and annoyed Dean crawls out of the water and onto the mud, panting. "What?"

"Hey! Are you all right?"

Dean holds up one hand in an A-OK sign. "I'm super."

Sam nods, relieved, and looks around for Olive, spotting her as she walks towards him, clutching her right arm and panting. "Olive? You okay?"

She nods, but the way she's clenching her teeth proves otherwise.

* * *

Dean shuts the hood of his car and leans on it.

"Is your fucking car all right, princess?" Olive asks, still mad at him for the; _"On 3. 1...2...-"_ he pulled when relocating her shoulder.

Dean rolls his eyes at her anger. _'You should've expected that, Ol. That's how we've been doing it since day one.'_ He thinks, but only says; "Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a _bitch_!" He yells.

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job go from here, genius?" Sam asks. He settles on the hood next to Dean while Olive leans up against the Impale. Dean throws up his arms in frustration, then flicks mud off his hands. Sam sniffs, then looks at Dean. "You smell like a toilet."

"He always smells like that. Try riding in the car or sharing a motel with the bastard. He fuckin' stinks." She says. Dean looks down.

"Oh gee thanks, Ol. Feel the love, man, feel the friggin' love."

* * *

A credit card in the name of Hector Aframian lands on a home-made guest ledger. "One room, please."

Dean is standing at the motel check-in desk, still filthy, with Sam and Olive right behind him. Sam's hair is sticking up in some places. Olive's hair is raised off the back of her head slightly, from taking it out the ponytail that she had kept it in last night, and she's still rubbing her arm, which is sore.

The clerk picks up the card and looks at it. "You guys having a reunion or something?"

"What do you mean?"

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month." Dean looks back at Sam and Olive.

* * *

The motel door swings open. Sam is on the other side, having just picked the lock. Sam hides the picks and stands up. Dean and Olive are just outside, playing lookout, until Sam reaches out of the room to grab their shoulders and yank them inside. Sam closes the door behind them. They look around-every vertical surface has papers pinned to it: maps, newspaper clippings, pictures, notes. There are books on the desk and assorted junk on the floor and bed, including something with a hazardous-materials symbol.

"Whoa." Sam mutters.

Dean turns on a light by the bed and picks up a half-eaten hamburger sitting there. Sam steps over a line of salt on the floor. Dean sniffs the burger and recoils. _'I hope he wasn't trying to imply the 5-second-rule on that burger._ ' Olive thinks, but doesn't say anything.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least." Dean concludes, putting the burger down in disgust.

Olive fingers the salt on the floor and looks up. "Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in."

Dean looks at the papers covering one wall.

"What have you got here?" Sam asks, walking towards Dean.

"Centennial Highway victims." Sam nods. "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs," Sam crosses the room. Olive goes to stand beside Dean to study the pictures. "ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

While Dean talks, Sam looks at the papers taped to the other walls. Sam turns on another lamp. "Dad figured it out."

Dean and Olive turn to look. "What do you mean?" Dean asks, while Olive simply asks; "Huh?" with raised eyebrows.

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white." Sam explains.

Dean looks at the photos of Constance's victims. "You sly dogs." Olive breathes a laugh.  
Dean turns back to Sam and Olive. "All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness." Olive points out.

"Well, Dad would want to make sure." Dean crosses over to Sam, Olive follows behind him. "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband." Sam taps the picture of Joseph Welch. "If he's still alive."

Sam goes to look at something else. Dean looks at the picture below the _Herald_ article, of a woman in a white dress.

"All right. Why don't you two, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up." Dean walks away, goes into the bathroom, and gets in the shower.

Sam turns to Olive. "Hey, Olive?" Olive looks at him with raised eyebrows. "What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry."

Olive holds up a hand, effectively cutting him off. "As Dean would say," her voice lowers in an attempt to immitate her older brother. "No chick-flick moments."

Sam laughs and nods. "All right. Short-squatch."

"Sampunzel."

Sam laughs again. Olive sighs, drops down on the bed muttering about getting some sleep, and is snoring within a minute.

Sam notices something, his smile disappearing, and crosses over for a closer look. A rosary hangs in front of a large mirror, and stuck into the mirror frame is a photo of John sitting on the hood of the Impala, next to a young boy in a baseball cap, Dean, a younger girl, Olive, with a big grin on her face, exposing the missing front tooth with an even younger boy, Sam, on John's lap. Sam takes the photo off the mirror and holds it, smiling sadly.

* * *

Dean, clean again, comes out of the bathroom and grabs his jacket. He shrugs it on one shoulder as he crosses the room towards the bed. "Hey, man. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?" Dean asks over Olive's snores.

"No." Sam says

"Aframian's buying."

Sam shakes his head. "Mm-mm."

"Okay." He shakes Olive's shoulder, mindful of the right one for obvious reasons. She jerks awake, sucking in breath through her nose, and opens a bleary eye at him.

"Dean? _**(Which sounds more like Zean to Sam, but he doesn't say anything.)**_ Wha'd'ya wan'?" She slurs, opening her other eye and blinking a few times.

"I'm going to go get some grub from the diner down the street. You want anything?" Dean asks.

"Yeah. The usual." Olive nods, curls up on her side, closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.

Dean leaves the motel room, pulling the jacket the rest of the way on as he crosses the lot. He looks over and sees a police car, where the moetl clerk is talking to two deputies. The clerk points at Dean, who turns away and pulls out his cell phone.

 _"What?"_

The deputies start to approach Dean.

"Dude, five-oh, take off."

 _"What about you?"_ Dean can hear Sam shaking Olive awake and Olive grumbling at him about her beating him with a stick.

"Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad." Dean hangs up the phone as the deputies approach. He turns and grins at them. "Problem, officers?"

"Where're your partners?"

"Partners? What, what partners?"

The deputy glances over his shoulder and jerks his thumb towards the motel room. The other deputy heads over there. Dean fidgets.

"So. Fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?"

"My boobs." Dean grins.

The deputy slams Dean over the hood of the cop car. "You have the right to remain silent-"

* * *

The sheriff enters the room, carrying a box. He sets the box on the table where Dean sits and goes around the table to face Dean across it. "So you want to give us your real name?"

"I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent."

"I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here."

"We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?"

"You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall." Dean looks away. "Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect."

"That makes sense. Because when the first one went missing in '82 I was three."

"I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me. Dean." The sheriff tosses a brown leather-covered journal on the table. "This his?"

Dean stares at it. The sheriff sits on the edge of the table. He flips through the journal. "I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out-I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy." Dean leans forward for a closer look. "But I found this, too." He opens the journal to a page that reads _"Dean Olive 35-111"_ , circled, with nothing else on that page. "Now. You're stayin' right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means."

Dean stares down at the page, then looks up.

* * *

Sam knocks on the door, Olive stands behinds him. An old man opens it. "Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?" Sam asks.

"Yeah."

Sam, Olive and Joseph are walking down the junk-filled driveway, Joseph holding the photo Sam found on John's motel room mirror. "Yeah, he was older, but that's him." Joseph hands the photo back to Sam, who hands it to Olive. She looks it over before putting it in her pants pocket. "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter."

"That's right. We're working on a story together. This is the editor, she wanted to tag along." Sam adds quickly after he sees the confused look Joseph gave Olive.

"Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?"

"About your wife Constance?"

"He asked me where she was buried."

"And where is that again?"

"What, I gotta go through this twice?"

"It's fact-checking, if you don't mind." Olive adds.

"In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

"And why did you move?"

"I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died."

Sam stops walking. Joseph and Olive stop too. "Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?"

Joseph shakes his head. "No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known."

"So you had a happy marriage?"

Joseph hesitates. "Definitely."

"Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time."

Sam turns toward the Impala. Joseph walks away. Olive waits a moment, then looks back up at Joseph. "Mr. Welch, have you ever heard of a woman in white?" Olive asks, ignoring the look Sam gives her.

Joseph turns around. "A what?"

"A woman in white. Or sometimes a weeping woman?" Joseph just stares at her. "It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really, but..." She trails off. Olive starts back toward Joseph. "Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona and Indiana. All these are different women." Olive stops in front of Joseph. "You understand. But all share the same story".

"Kid, I don't care much for nonsense." Joseph walks away. Olive follows, after muttering 'Kid my ass' under her breath, Sam trailing behind.

"See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them." Joseph stops. "And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children." Joseph turns around. "Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives." Olive's voice gets softer as she goes on. "So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again."

"You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You bitch!" Joseph shouts.

"You tell me." Olive says calmly.

"I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!" Joseph's voice shakes, whether from anger or grief it's impossible to tell. After a long moment, he turns away. Olive sighs.

* * *

"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you. It's my high school locker combo."

The sheriff is still interrogating Dean over the _"Dean Olive 35-111"_ page. "We gonna do this all night long?"

A deputy leans into the room.

"We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road."

"You have to go to the bathroom?" The sheriff asks Dean.

"No."

"Good." The sheriff handcuffs Dean to the table and leaves.

Dean sees a paper clip poking out of the journal, pulls it out, and looks at it. Moments later he is out of the cuffs. Dean watches through the window in the door, ducks out of sight as the deputy approaches the door, and waits.

Dean escapes and climbs down the fire escape, carrying John's journal.

* * *

Sam is driving the Impala when Olive's phone rings. She pulls it out and answers it, putting it on speaker. "Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal."

"That's what I said." Olive laughs.

"You're welcome." Sam grins.

"Listen, we gotta talk."

"Tell me about it. So the husband _was_ unfaithful. We _are_ dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop." Olive says in one breath.

"Liv, would you shut up for a second?"

"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet." Sam mutters.

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What? How do you know?" Sam's eyebrows raise.

"I've got his journal."

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing." Olive adds.

"Yeah, well, he did this time."

"What's it say?"

"Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates. Where to?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is goi-"

"Sam, _**STOP THE CAR**_!" Olive screeches, staring wide-eyed at Constance in the road.

Sam looks up and slams the brake, making Olive drop the phone. The car goes right through Constance as Sam brings it to a halt.

"Sam?! Olive?!"

Sam breathes hard. Constance is sitting in the back seat. "Take me home." Sam shakes his head. "Take me home!"

"No." Sam growls. He looks over at Olive, his eyes widening when he sees that she couldn't move, therefore couldn't do anything to stop the ghost.

He looks back at Constance in time to see the glare and the doors lock themselves. He struggles to reopen them. The gas pedal presses down and the car begins to drive itself. Sam tries to steer, but Constance is doing that too. Sam continues to try to get the door open. In the back seat, Constance flickers.

* * *

The car pulls up in front of Constance's house and stops. The engine shuts off along with the lights. "Don't do this." Sam pleads.

Constance flickers again. Her voice is sad as she says; "I can never go home."

"You're scared to go home."

Sam looks back and Constance isn't there. He feels her weight as she reappears in his lap, shoving him back against the seat hard enough to recline it. Sam struggles and Olive bangs her head against the seat lightly. "Hold me. I'm so cold."

"You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!"

"You will be. Just hold me." Constance kisses Sam as he continues to struggle, reaching for the keys. She pulls back and disappears, a flash of something horrible behind her face as she vanishes. Sam looks around for a moment, then yells in pain and yanks his hoodie open. There are five new holes burned through the fabric, matching to Constance's fingers: she flickers in front of him, her hand reaching into his chest. A gunshot goes off, shattering the window and startling Constance. Olive jerks in the seat. Dean approaches, still firing at Constance. She glares at him and vanishes, then reappears, and Dean keeps firing until she disappears again. Sam manages to sit up and start the car. "I'm taking you home."

Sam drives forward. Dean stares after the car as it smashes through the side of the house. Dean hurries through the wreckage to the driver side of the car.

"Sam! Olive! You guys okay?"

"I'm fine." Sam and Olive reply simultaneously.

"Can you move?"

"Yeah. Help us out?" Olive asks.

Dean opens the door to give Sam a hand. Then he gets Olive out, wincing at the bruise on her forehead from hitting the dashboard. "There you go."

Constance picks up a large framed photograph of her and two children.

Dean closes the car door. They look around and see Constance; she looks up. She glares at them and throws the picture down. A bureau scoots towards the siblings, pinning them against the car. The lights flicker; Constance looks around, scared. Water begins to pour down the staircase. She goes over. At the top are a boy and girl They hold hands and speak in chorus. "You've come home to us, Mommy."

Constance looks at . Suddenly they are behind her and they embrace her tightly; she screams, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still screaming, Constance and the two children melt into a puddle in the floor. Sam, Dean and Olive shove the bureau over and go look at the spot where Constance and her children vanished.

"So this is where she drowned her kids." Olive says.

Sam nods. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."

"You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy." Dean praises, slapping Sam on the chest where he's been injured before he walks away. Sam laughs through the pain.

"Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you, Dean. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey. Saved your ass." Dean leans over to look at the car. "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?" Dean twists around to look at Sam. "I'll kill you."

"Ya gonna beat him with a stick?" Olive asks, raising her eyebrows at her brothers. Sam and Dean laugh and Olive joins in.

* * *

The Impala tears down the road.

Sam has the journal open to _"Dean Olive 35-111"_ and a map open on his lap and is finding coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked between chin and shoulder. "Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

Dean nods. "Sounds charming. How far?"

"About six hundred miles."

"Not to far. If we shag ass we could make it by morning." Olive suggests.

Sam looks between Dean and Olive, hesitating. "Guys, I, um..."

Dean glances at the road and back. "You're not going." He sighs.

"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there." Sam explains. Dean nods, disappointed, and returns his attention to the road.

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever." Dean glances at Sam. "I'll take you home."

Sam turns the flashlight off. They drive on in silence.

* * *

They pull up in front of the apartment, Dean still frowning. Sam gets out and leans over to look through the window. "Call me if you find him?" Dean nods. "And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right." Dean sighs.

Olive gets out of the car and grabs Sam in a hug. "Make me a niece or a nephew, Squirt." She says, smiling up at her brother, though inside she was screaming for him to stay with them, not caring how selfish it actually was of her.

"Squirt? I'm taller than you, in case you didn't remember."

"Whatever." She rolls her eyes. "Be safe, Jolly Green." She squeezes his bicep in a comforting manner, then get in the Impala.

Sam pats the car door twice and turns away. Dean leans toward the passenger door, one arm going over the back of the seat.

"Sam?" Sam turns back. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

"Yeah."

Dean drives off, Olive watches as he becomes a speck in the mirror. Sam watches them go and sighs.

* * *

Sam lets himself in. Everything is dark and quiet. "Jess?" Sam closes the door. "You home?"

He notices a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table, with a note that reads _"Missed you! Love you!"_ , next to a _National Geographic_. Sam picks one up and eats it as he sneaks into the bedroom, smiling. He can hear the shower running. Sam sits on the bed, shuts his eyes, and flops onto his back.

Blood drips onto Sam's forehead, one drop, then another. He flinches with each one and opens his eyes. He gasps in horror: Jess is pinned to the ceiling, staring down at him with unseeing eyes and bleeding from the belly. "No!"

Jess bursts into flame; the fire spreads across the ceiling.

Dean kicks the front door open. "Sam!" Olive and Dean scream.

Sam raises one arm to shield his face. "Jess!"

Dean comes running into the bedroom, Olive following close behind. "Sam! Sam!" Dean and Olive look up and sees Jess. Olive stares, frozen.

"No! No!"

Dean grabs Sam off the bed and bodily shoves him out the door, Sam struggling all the way. Olive snaps from her daze and rushes out the door.

"Jess! Jess! No!" Flames engulf the apartment.

* * *

A fire truck is parked outside the building, firemen and police keeping back gawkers. Dean looks on, then turns and walks back to his car. Olive is watching the people around her, rolling her eyes at how rude and childish they're being. _'I mean, come on people, someone just died. Show some fuckin' respect.'_ She sighs and goes over to Sam and Dean. Sam is standing behind the open trunk, loading a shotgun. Dean looks at the trunk, then at Sam, whose face is set in a mask of desperate anger.

Sam looks up, then sighs, nods, and tosses the shotgun into the trunk. "We got work to do." Sam shuts the trunk.

He gets into the car, closes the door with a slam, and stares at his home of two years.

"You heard the not-so-little shit. Let's get in the car before he huffs so hard the windshield shatters." Dean glares at her. "Too soon?" Dean nods. "Whatever." Olive says and reluctantly gets in the back, muttering about how skyscrapers should not be permitted as brothers, and that Sammy needs to grow down before he has to crawl in the car on all-fours.

 **Here it is folks! I hope you like it!**


	3. Chapter 3

There is a mostly empty plate in front of Olive, who is circling obituaries in a newspaper.

An attractive waitress approaches. "Can I get you anything else?" Dean looks up and grins around the pen he's chewing on.

Sam comes over and sits down. "Just the check, please."

"Okay." The waitress walks away. Dean drops his head, then looks at Sam.

"You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while." Dean points to the waitress walking away; she's wearing short shorts. "That's fun."

Sam looks at him. Olive hands Sam the newspaper. "Here, take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago." Olive tells them, swiping a lock of hair behind her ear to keep it out of her face.

"A funeral? I thought they didn't find the body." Dean says, looking at Olive.

"Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever." Olive shrugsm

"Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear. Other people just stop looking for them." Sam butts in.

"Something you want to say?" Dean challenges.

"The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day."

"Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?" Dean asks, eyebrows raised.

"I don't know. Something. Anything."

"You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think we wanna find Dad as much as you do?" Olive asks.

"Yeah, I know you do, it's just-" Sam starts.

"We're the ones that've been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. 'Kay?" Olive says, irritation showing in her voice.

Sam rolls his eyes. The waitress walks by, distracting Dean.

"All right, Lake Manitoc. Hey!" Sam snaps in Dean's face.

Dean returns his attention to Sam. "Huh?" Olive rolls her eyes.

"How far?"

* * *

Dean knocks on the door while Sam and Olive stand the to sides of him, waiting until someone opens the door. Will Carlton opens it.

"Will Carlton?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, that's right."

"I'm Agent Crosby. This is Agent Stills," he gestures to Sam. "And Agent Nash." he gestures to Olive. "We're with the US Wildlife Service." Dean holds up an ID.

Bill Carlton is sitting on a bench on the dock. Will brings the siblings around to see him. "She was about a hundred yards out. That's where she got dragged down."

"And you're sure she didn't just drown?" Dean suggests.

"Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub."

"So no splashing? No signs of distress?" Sam pulls out a notepad, looking intently at Will.

"No, that's what I'm telling you."

"Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?"

"No. Again, she was really far out there."

"You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?" Olive asks.

"No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?"

"We'll let you know as soon as we do." Olive nods and heads back to the car, Dean in tow.

"What about your father?" Dean and Olive stop, and turn back. "Can we talk to him?"

Will turns to look at Bill, then turns back. "Look, if you don't mind, I mean...he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot."

"We understand." Sam, Dean and Olive go to the car.

* * *

Sheriff Jake Devins talks to Sam, Olive and Dean. "Now, I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?"

"You sure it's accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister."

"Like what?" They walk into Jake's office. Jake motions to chairs in front of his desk. "Here, sit, please. There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake." Sam, Dean and Olive sit. "There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster."

"Yeah." Dean laughs. "Right." Sam and Olive glance at Dean.

"Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still," Jake sits down. "We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."

"That's weird, though, I mean, that's, that's the third missing body this year." Olive reminds him.

"I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about."

"I know."

"Anyways..." Jake sighs. "All this...it won't be a problem much longer."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the dam, of course."

"Of course, the dam. It's, uh, it sprung a leak?" Olive says slowly.

"It's falling apart, and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that."

"Exactly".

A young woman taps on the door. "Sorry, am I interrupting?" The Winchesters stand up. "I can come back later."

"Gentlemen, and lady," he adds hastily. "This is my daughter."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean." Dean shakes the womans's hand.

"Andrea Barr. Hi."

"Hi."

"They're from the Wildlife Service. About the lake."

"Oh." A boy walks in around Andrea.

"Oh, hey there. What's your name?" Olive questions softly, sending how shy the boy is due to the bowed head.

The boy walks away without speaking. Andrea follows. "His name is Lucas."

Lucas and Andrea are in the main room, and Andrea gives him some crayons out of a box. "Is he okay?" Sam asks.

"My grandson's been through a lot. We all have." Jake stands and goes to the office door. "Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know."

Dean, Sam, Olive, and Jake leave the office.

"Thanks. You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?" Dean inquires.

"Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south." Andrea suggests.

"Two-would you mind showing us?" Dean requests.

Andrea laughs. "You want me to walk you two blocks?"

"Not if it's any trouble."

"I'm headed that way anyway." Andrea turns to Jake. "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three." Andrea turns to Lucas. "We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?" Andrea kisses Lucas on the head.

Dean waves as they leave. Jake nods.

"Thanks again." Sam shouts over his shoulder.

Andrea leads Dean, Sam, and Olive along the street. "So, cute kid." Dean says, trying to spark a conversation.

"Thanks." They cross a street.

"Kids are the best, huh?"

Andrea glances at him and ignores him. They keep walking. They stop in front of a building that says _Lakefront Motel_.

"There it is. Like I said, two blocks."

"Thanks."

Andrea addresses Dean. "Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line." Andrea leaves, calling back over her shoulder. "Enjoy your stay!"

"'Kids are the best'? You don't even like kids."

"I love kids." Dean argues.

"Name three children that you even know." Dean thinks and comes up empty. Sam waves a hand and walks into the motel. Dean scratches his head.

"I'm thinking!" Olive walks up to him, laughing, and snacks the back of his head.

"Just shut up and go inside before you dig the hole any deeper, dumbass."

* * *

Olive is working on Sam's laptop. Dean is going through his clothing. Sam is leafing through a book called _'Supernatural Creatures In Water'_ that they picked up from the library.

"So there's the three drowning victims this year." Olive breaks the silence.

Sam looks up at Olive. "Any before that?"

"Uh, yeah. Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace."

Dean tosses an item of clothing onto a bed. "So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?"

"This whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me." Olive says.

Dean goes over to read over Olive's shoulder. "Why?"

"Loch Ness, uh, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing." She bites her lip, thinking hard. "Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it."

Olive scrolls to the comments section of an article. Sam gets up and walks over, pointing at the screen. "Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?"

Olive reads from the page. "Um, Christopher Barr, he was the victim in May." Olive clicks a link, opening a new page, and sees a picture of Lucas and a police man. "Oh. Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued." She winces in sympathy. Olive clicks the picture for a better look, then scratches her head. "Maybe we have an eyewitness after all."

"No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over."

* * *

Andrea sits on a bench and watches Lucas, who is at another bench coloring and playing with toy soldiers. "Can we join you?"

Andrea looks up to see Sam, Olive and Dean. "I'm here with my son."

Olive looks over at Lucas. "Oh. Mind if I say hi?" When Andrea nods her approval, Olive goes over to Lucas.

"If she's trying to get Lucas to talk, this whole 'You've Got A Friend In Me' thing isn't gonna work. Every therapist tried that exact method, and he still hasn't talked." Sam sits next to Andrea.

"I don't think that's what this is about." Dean says, narrowing his eyes to watch Olive and Lucas.

Olive approaches Lucas. "How's it going?"

Olive kneels down next to the bench where Lucas is coloring; when Lucas doesn't look up, Olive picks up one of the toy soldiers. "Oh, my brothers and I used to love these things." She imitates guns and explosions, then tosses the toy soldier down.

"So crayons are more your thing? That's cool. Chicks dig artists." Lucas has a pile of drawings on the bench. Olive takes a look. The top one is of a big black swirl; the second one is of a red bicycle. "Hey, these are pretty good. You mind if I sit and draw with you for a while?"

Olive picks up a crayon. "I'm not so bad myself." Olive sits on the bench, picks up a pad of paper, and starts drawing.

"You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was a kid, a little younger than you, I saw something." There is a pause as Olive sighs, getting back on track. "Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake." Olive's voice is soft and calm. "Okay, no problem. This is for you."

Olive holds out the picture of stick figures she drew to Lucas. "This is my family."

Olive points at each person as she names them. "That's my dad. That's...," she takes a deep breath. "That's my mom. That's my geek of a younger brother. That's my doofus of an older brother. And that's me, the one with the great hair." She smiles. A pause.  
"All right, so I'm a sucky artist. I'll see you 'round, Lucas." Olive gets up and heads back to Sam, Dean, and Andrea. Lucas picks up the picture.

"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident."

"Yeah, we heard. Sorry." Andrea nods, smiling sadly at Olive.

"What are the doctors saying?" Dean glances at Olive

"That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress."

"That can't be easy. For either of you."

"We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw..." A pause.

"Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with." Olive nods.

Lucas leaves the bench, heading for the group. "You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish-"

Lucas walks up, carrying a picture. "Hi sweetie."

Lucas hands Olive the picture. She blinks, surprised, before smiling down at him. "Thanks. Thanks, Lucas." . Lucas heads back to the bench.

* * *

Dean is inside the motel room sitting on a bed, Olive is on the computer. Sam opens the door and comes in. "So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie."

"What do you mean?" Sam sits next to Dean, Olive closes the computer and sits on the end of the bed

"I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."

"He drowned?"

"Yep. In the sink."

"What the hell? So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else."

"Yeah, but what?"

"I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source."

"The lake." Olive mumbles. "Shit."

"Yeah, what she said."

"Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time."

"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere."

"Double shit."

Dean stands up. "This is gonna happen again soon." Dean sits down on a chair.

"And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this _has_ got something to do with Bill Carlton."

"Yeah, it took both his kids."

"And I've been asking around. Lucas's dad, Chris-Bill Carlton's godson."

"Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit." Dean stands up, grabs his keys, pulls on his jacket and walks out the door, followed by Sam and Olive.

* * *

"Mr. Carlton?" Bill looks up. The siblings approach. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

"We're from the, the Department-" Dean starts, but Bill cuts him off.

"I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today."

"Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there? Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death-we think there might be a connection to you or your family."

"My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please."

Sam starts to protest, but Olive stops him. "Let's go guys, give the guy some space. He's been through enough for one day." Sam and Dean head back to the car, but before Olive walks away, she turns back to Bill. "It may not amount to much, but I truly am sorry for your loss." Bill nods and turns to the water.

"So, what do you guys think?" Sam asks when Olive gets to the car.

"Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell. I also think he's not telling us something." Dean leans on the Impala, Sam does too.

"So now what?"

Olive goes to say something but then suddenly goes still.

"What is it?" Sam straightens.

"Huh." Olive is looking at the Carlton house. "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something."

Olive pulls out the picture Lucas brought her, which is of the Carlton house. Dean looks at Sam, then they both look at Olive.

* * *

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea." Andrea tried to convince the Winchesters, but Olive persists;

"I just need to talk to him. Just for a few minutes."

"He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?"

"Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there." Sam explains.

"My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all."

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a _possibility_ that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son." Olive pleads.

* * *

Lucas is coloring, toy soldiers standing around him. Dean, Andrea, Olive, and Sam approach the doorway. Olive enters and crouches down by Lucas. "Hey, Lucas. You remember me?" Lucas, as expected, didn't reply. "You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again."

Lucas is drawing a person in water. Olive opens the house picture and puts it down in front of Lucas. "How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me?" Olive suggests. Lucas keeps coloring.

"You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was a little younger than you, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't know what had happened, but I knew that I probably wouldn't see my mom again... and that hurt, that hurt real bad. But, you see, my mom-I knew she would've wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe...maybe your dad wants you to be brave too." Her voice was soft and low, a voice her brothers knew she only used around children. Lucas drops his crayon and looks up at Olive. He hands her a picture of a white church, a yellow house, and a boy with a blue baseball cap and red bicycle in front of a wooden fence. "Thanks, Lucas."

* * *

The siblings are in the Impala, Sam holding the church picture. "Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died." Dean tells Sam and Olive.

"There are cases-going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies." Sam nods as he talks.

"Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please." Olive looks between her brothers.

"All right, we got another house to find."

"The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone." Olive sighs.

Sam looks at the picture. "See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here."

"Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart." Dean teases.

"You know, um...what you said about Mom...you never talked about that before." Sam looks at Olive.

"It's no big deal, dude."

"Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?" Dean breaks the moment, leaving Olive grateful that she didn't have share her feelings anymore.

* * *

Olive, Dean and Sam are inside the house, speaking to Mrs. Sweeney.

"We're sorry to bother you, but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle." Dean asks.

"No sir. Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now." Mrs. Sweeney sighs. "The police never- _I_ never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared." Sam points out to his siblings a number of toy soldiers on a table. "Losing him-you know, it's...it's worse than dying."

"Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?" Olive asks.

"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up."

Dean picks a picture off the mirror and reads from the back of the picture. "Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy."

* * *

Dean, Olive, and Sam are driving.

"Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow." Sam says.

"Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?" Dean asks, looking between Sam and Olive.

"And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished." Sam finishes.

"So what if Bill did something to Peter?" Olive bites her bottom lip in thought. "What if Bill killed him?"

"Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible."

* * *

The Impala pulls up in front of the Carlton house. Olive, Sam, and Dean approach the house. "Mr. Carlton?" An engine roars. Sam, Olive, and Dean go around the house to see Bill going out on the lake in his boat.

"Oh, fucknuggets." Olive mutters.

The Winchesters run to the end of the dock, yelling; "Mr. Carlton! You need to come back! Come out of the water! Turn the boat around! Mr. Carlton!"

Bill ignores them and keeps going. The water rises up and flips Bill's boat over. It and he vanish.

"Fuckin' water-ghost-thing." Olive growls, glaring out at where Bill had last been.

* * *

Lucas is sitting in a chair, rocking back and forth. Andrea is sitting next to him, holding a paper bag and a plastic container. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Sam, Dean, Olive, and Jake walk in the door. Andrea looks over. "Sam. Dean. Olive" Andrea stands up, putting the bag and container on her chair. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"So now you're on a first-name basis. What are you doing here?" Jake looks at Andrea.

"I brought you dinner."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time."

"I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"

"Right now we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home."

Lucas looks up and whines, looking stricken; he jumps up and grabs Olive's arm, pulling furiously.

"Lucas, hey, what is it? Lucas." She kneels in front of Lucas. "Lucas, it's okay. It's okay. Hey, Lucas, it's okay. It's okay." She tries to reassure Lucas.

Andrea pulls Lucas away from Olive and leads him outside. Lucas doesn't look away from Olive.

Jake throws down his jacket and goes into his office. Sam, Olive, and Dean follow. "Okay, just so I'm clear, you see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill-who is a very good swimmer, by the way-into the drink, and you never see him again?"

Dean glances at Sam and Olive. "Yeah, that about sums it up."

"And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?" Dean looks surprised. "That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three."

"See, now, we can explain that-"

"Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

"Door number two sounds good."

"That's the one I'd pick."

* * *

Dean, Sam, and Olive are in the Impala, waiting at a traffic light. Dean is in the passenger seat, while Sam is in back. Olive is driving the Impala. The light turns green, but the Impala doesn't move.

"Green." Sam tells her.

"What?"

"Light's green." Olive turns right.

"Um, the interstate's the other way, Ol." Dean points left with his thumb.

"I know." Olive keeps driving.

"But Olive, this job, I think it's over."

"I'm not so sure."

"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest."

"All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?"

"But why would you think that?"

"Because Lucas was really scared, Sam."

"That's what this is about?"

"I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay."

"Who are you? And what have you done with our sister?" Dean asks sarcastically. Olive glances at him, then at Sam in the rearview mirror, who has the same expression on his face.

"Shut up."

* * *

"Are you sure about this? It's pretty late, man."

Olive rings the doorbell anyway. At that moment, Lucas opens the door, desperately afraid. "Lucas? Lucas!" Lucas takes off. They follow him.

Water is pouring out from under the bathroom door and down the stairs. Lucas starts pounding on the bathroom door again. Dean pushes him over to Olive and kicks in the door, then runs in. Lucas grabs at Olive, so Sam runs into the bathroom and sticks his arms in the tub, trying to help Dean pull Andrea out. She is pulled back under, but the brothers keeps pulling until Andrea is all the way out. She starts coughing up water.

* * *

Dawn is breaking. Sam and Andrea sit in the living room. Andrea is dry and wearing comfortable clothing.

"Can you tell me?"

"No."

Dean is checking through the bathroom upstairs, looking for anything to help with the case. Olive is looking through notebooks on bookshelves.

"It doesn't make any sense." Andrea starts crying. "I'm going crazy." She puts her face in her hands.

"No, you're not. Tell me what happened. Everything."

"I heard...I thought I heard...there was this voice."

"What did it say?"

"It said...it said 'come play with me'." Andrea sobs. "What's happening?"

Olive pulls out a scrapbook that says "Jake - 12 years old" and opens it, flipping pages. She closes it again and goes to Sam and Andrea. Dean comes downstairs, having found nothing. Olive puts the book down in front of Andrea

"Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?"

"What? Um, um, no. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures."

She moves her finger over to another picture of Jake as a child; he is standing next to Peter. Sam looks at Dean and Olive, but Olive doesn't look up. "Chris Barr's drowning. The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff." Olive mutters, narrowing her eyes at the photo.

"Bill _and_ the sheriff-they were both involved with Peter." Sam reminds.

"What about Chris? My dad-what are you talking about?"

Olive looks up at her, but then turns her head. "Lucas?" Lucas is staring out the window. "Lucas, what is it?"

Lucas opens the door and walks outside. Everyone follows. "Lucas, honey?"

Lucas stops and looks at the ground, then at Olive.

"You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, 'kay?"

Andrea pulls Lucas back to the house. Dean, Sam and Olive fetch shovels from the Impala, before they start digging. Sam's shovel clanks against something. They dig with their hands and pull out a red bicycle.

"Peter's bike."

"Who are you?" Olive, Sam, and Dean turn around; Jake is there, pointing a gun at them.

"Put the gun down, Jake." Sam pleads.

The siblings drop their shovels.

"How did you know that was there?" Jake demands.

"What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried." Olive says calmly.

Andrea sees Jake with the gun aimed at Sam, Dean, and Olive. She looks at Lucas. "Go to your room, sweetie. Now. Lock the door and wait for me. Don't come out."

Lucas runs off and Andrea goes outside.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." Jake lies.

"You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about." Olive accuses.

Andrea runs up. "Dad!"

"And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit on your ass."

"It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them. And it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt. And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does." Dean explains.

"Yeah, and how do you know that?"

"Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton." Sam says.

"Listen to yourselves. You're insane."

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake." Dean demands.

"Dad, is any of this true?"

"No. Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous."

"Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me." Jake looks at her. "Tell me you-you didn't kill anyone." Jake looks away. "Oh my God."

"Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank." Olive isn't paying attention. She's listening to the soothing voice coming from the lake. "Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational."

"All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now."

Olive turns her head towards the lake and spots Lucas going down to the lake. "Lucas!" She snaps from her stupor and runs towards the dock. She gets to Lucas and wraps her arm around his waist, just as the ghost grabs Lucas's arm and yanks, with enough force to pull them both underwater. Olive gasps in a breath and then she hits the water.

"Lucas! Olive!" Dean calls.

"Lucas!"

The adults have reached the edge of the lake. Jake stops. Peters's head is visible; Jake recognizes him. Dean and Sam keep running to the end of the dock and dive in.

"Oh my God!" Andrea takes off her jacket to jump in.

"Andrea, stay there!"

"No! Lucas! Olive!"

"We'll get them! Just stay on the dock!"

Sam dives under again. Dean comes up. A minute later, so does Sam.

"Sam?"

Sam shakes his head. "No! Nothing!"

"Oh my God, where are they?"

The idea of letting a young girl and his grandson die for him scares Jake to no end. He takes off his jacket as Sam and Dean dive back down. Jake wades in. Aandrea looks over.

"Peter, if you can hear me...please, Peter, I'm sorry. I'm so-I'm so sorry."

"Daddy, no!"

"Peter. Please, it's not their fault, it's mine. Please take me."

Dean and Sam come up for air. "Jake, no!"

Peter surfaces. "Just let it be over!" Jake is dragged down.

"Daddy! Daddy! No!" Dean and Sam dive down again. "No!"

Dean comes up, holding Lucas, who isn't moving. "Sam!"

Sam comes up a minute later, clutching Olive as she coughs and sputters, breathing heavily and shivering. He swims over to land and lays her down, turning her on her side so she can get all the water out of her system.

Dean performs CPR on Lucas and Lucas is wakes up, coughing up water.

After Lucas is settled, Dean goes over to Olive. He takes in her appearance. From the wet, stringy hair, shivering, red cheeks, and sniffling, he guesses she's probably going to be sick by morning.

* * *

Dean, Olive, and Sam walk out of the motel. Dean opens the car door and Sam tosses a duffel in.

"Look, we're not gonna save everybody." Sam says to Dean

"I know." Dean replies.

"Sam, Dean, Olive." Andrea walks up with Lucas.

"Hey!" Olive says, then sneezes into her elbow. _'Fuckin' cold, man.'_

"We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road." Lucas is carrying a tray of sandwiches. "Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself."

"Can I give it to them now?" Lucas asks, surprising the siblings.

"Of course." Andrea smiles and kisses Lucas's head.

"Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car."

"How you holding up?" Sam asks Andrea.

"It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?"

Sam sighs. "Andrea, I'm sorry."

Andrea shakes her head. "You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that."

Olive puts the sandwiches in the car. "All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time."

"Zeppelin rules!"

"That's right. Up high!" Olive holds his hand up for a high-five, a smile lighting up her face. Lucas obliges, grinning. "You take care of your mom, okay?"

"All right."

Andrea comes up and kisses Dean. "Thank you." Dean thinks a minute, then scratches his head and goes around the car. He gets in and turns it on, gunning the engine

Andrea then walks over to Olive and pulls her in for a hug. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." She returns the hug, then kneels down in front of Lucas, who hugs her too. "Bye Lucas." She stands after hugging him back, then slides into the backseat of the car. "Sam, move your ass. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road."

Sam gets in the car, rolling his eyes at his impatient siblings.

The siblings smile at Andrea and Lucas waving goodbye, then they drive away.

 _ **That's chapter three, hope you enjoyed!**_


	4. Chapter 4

Dean is asleep on his stomach, while Olive is sprawled on her back and snoring as loud as a garbage truck. As the door opens, Dean awakens and slips a hand under his pillow for his knife. As he turns to look, he sees Sam, carrying coffee and donuts.

"Morning, sunshine." He glances at Olive. "You know, with her snoring, I'm surprised you didn't wake up sooner."

"What time is it?" Dean asks, his voice thick with sleep.

"Uh, about five forty-five."

"In the morning?"

"Yep." Sam places Dean's coffee on his bedside table.

"Where does the day go?" Dean sits up, completely ignoring the coffee for the time being. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours..

"Liar. 'Cause I was up at three, and you were sitting on the couch, watching a George Foreman infomercial."

"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV."

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

"I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, it is." Sam and Dean jump at the voice, obviously not aware that the snoring had stopped and Olive was listening to their conversation. Olive grimaces at the rasp of her voice and clears her throat. "It's a very big deal, dipshit." She sits up and glares at Sam and Dean through, tired, hooded eyes, pulling down her black camisole where it hitched up on her stomach.

"Look, I appreciate your concern-"

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to help keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp." Dean says, unapologetically. Sam shrugs.

"Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?" Olive asks, concern evident in her eyes. Sam crosses the room, sits at the edge of the bed Olive had been sprawled on, and hands her a coffee.

"Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job, it gets to you." Sam confesses.

"You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that." Dean shrugs.

"So, what? All this it...never keeps either of you up at night?" Dean and Olive both shake their heads. "Never? You're never afraid?"

"No, not really." Dean says. Olive just shrugs. Sam reaches under Dean's pillow to pull out a large hunting knife, placing it down on the bed space beside him. Then he reaches towards Olive's pillows, pulls the butterfly knife out from underneath the pillow and picks up the other knife, holding them both up as evidence.

Olive glares at him, then snatches the knife from his hand, holding it tightly in her hand. Dean takes the knife back. "That's not fear. That's precaution." Dean argues and Olive nods.

"All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue."

Dean's phone rings and he answers it. "Hello?"

 _"Dean, it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You, your sister, and your dad helped me out a couple years back."_

"Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?" Olive looks at Dean, mouthing _'Jerry? Poltergeist guy?'_ when he looks her way. He gives a curt nod before concentrating back on the phone.

 _"No. No. Thank god, no. But it's something else, and...uh, I think it could be a lot worse."_

"What is it?"

 _"Can we talk in person?"_

Dean eyes Sam, who stares back at him, his eyes narrowed in an unspoken question. Olive looks at Dean, who doesn't return the look, and hops of her bed, starting to gather her clothes and put them in her duffle, though she purposely leaves out a plaid blue and green button down shirt, old jeans, a bra, underwear, and some socks to change into when she gets out of the shower.

* * *

"Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean, Olive, and your dad really helped me out." Jerry looks up at Sam.

"Yeah, I've been told. It was a poltergeist?"

"Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie." A random worker said as he passed them.

"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking." The man walks off and Jerry lowers his voice. "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you guys and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"

"Yeah, I was. I'm, uh, I'm taking some time off." Sam stutters out.

"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time."

"He did?"

"Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"

"He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now."

"Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?" Dean and Olive laugh.

"No, not by a long shot." Sam mutters.

"I got something I want you guys to hear." They walk into his office. "I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." Jerry puts a CD in a drive. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."

 _"Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485-immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy your message-May be experiencing some mechanical failure..."_ There is a loud whooshing sound.

"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."

"You don't think it was?"

"No, I don't." Jerry says confidently.

"Okay, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors..." Olive trails off, thinking if they need anything else. "Yeah, passenger manifests and a list of survivors." Olive nods, feeling as if she forgot something.

"All right."

"Oh! Uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Olive remembers.

"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage...guys, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."

Dean frowns. "No problem."

* * *

Sam and Olive are waiting by the car outside a Copy Jack. As Dean exits, Sam stands up straight. "You've been in there forever."

Dean holds up three IDs. "You can't rush perfection."

Olive grabs an ID from him, gaping. "Holy fuck, man. Homeland Security?" Sam takes one of the IDs. "That's pretty fuckin' illegal, even for us."

"Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." They get in the car. "All right, so, what do you got?"

"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder." Sam shifts in his seat to look at both of his siblings.

"Yeah?"

"Listen."

He plays the tape. "No survivors..." A scratchy voice whispers.

""No survivors"? What's that supposed to mean? There were, like, seven survivors." Olive asks, looking over the list of survivors again.

"Beats me."

"So, what do you guys think? Haunted flight?"

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers." Sam offers.

"Mm-hmm." Dean nods.

"Oh, remember flight 401?" Olive suggests.

"Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights." Sam sighs.

"Right."

"Yep."

"Maybe we got a similar deal?" Sam rubs his chin.

"All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?"

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey." Olive says immediately.

"Why him?"

"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, I talked to his mom. And she told me where to find him."

* * *

Max is walking with a cane between Sam and Dean, while Olive stands beside Dean.

"I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security."

"Right. Some new information has come up. So if you could just answer a couple questions..." Dean trails off.

"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?" Olive asks slowly.

"Like what?"

"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices, even."

"No, nothing."

"Mr. Joffey-" Dean starts.

"Jaffey." Olive whispers in his ear, giving his ribs a shove with her elbow while Max wasn't looking at them.

"Jaffey." Dean glares at Olive, who smiles innocently. "You checked yourself in here, correct?" Max nods. "Can I ask why?"

"I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash." Max deadpans.

"Uh huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?"

"I...I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what."

"No. No, I was...delusional. Seeing things."

"Look man, it's okay. You say you were seeing things? Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please." Sam compromises.

"There was...this-man. And, uh, he had these...eyes-these, uh...black eyes. And I saw him-or I thought I saw him..."

"Saw him...what?" Olive pushes.

"He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door."

"Yeah."

"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?" All three siblings look at Max, silently questioning him.

"What are you, nuts?" Sam tilts his head. "He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me."

* * *

"So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C." Sam looks up at the house through his window.

"Man, I don't care how strong you are," Sam, Dean, and Olive get out of the car. "I mean, even doped up on PCP or some shit, no way can you open up an emergency door during a flight."

"Not if you're human. But maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form." Sam suggests.

"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Dean asks, looking over Sam's shoulder.

Sam turns to look at the big, grey house surrounded by flowers and shrubs.

They walk up the walkway and stop at the front door to knock. Mrs. Phelps, an average-sized woman with brown hair and blue eyes comes to the door, looking scared.

"Hello, are you Mrs. Phelps?" The woman nods. "Alright, well I am officer Hayley Quinn of Homeland Security," Olive pulls out her badge and shows Mrs. Phelps. "And these are my partners, Robert Wayne," Olive gestures to Sam, who pulls out his badge. "And Charles Bruce." She gestures to Dean, who already had his badge out and is showing her. "We're here to ask you a few questions about a Mr. George Phelps, your late husband. May we come in?" Mrs. Phelps takes a deep breath and let's them in, leading them down the hall to the living room, seeing as it contained a couch, two chairs, and a small loveseat.

Dean and Sam sit across from Mrs. Phelps in the chairs while Olive sits on the loveseat. Sam looks at a small frames photograph. "This is your late husband?"

"Yes, that was my George."

"And he was a...dentist, correct?"

"Mm-hm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that..." She trails off.

"How long were you married?"

"Thirteen years."

"In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?"

"Well...uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean." The siblings look at each other.

* * *

Sam, Dean, and Olive come down the stairs out front. "I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense." Sam looks at Dean and Olive, as if they could give him the answer.

"A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage." Dean suggests.

"Okay. But if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part."

* * *

Dean and Sam exit a store, wearing crisp black suits with white shirts. Sam adjusts his collar as Olive walks out of the store, slightly stumbling in the heels. She huffs angrily and smooths down the dress.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers." Dean complains. They start towards the car.

"No, you don't. You look more like a...seventh-grader at his first dance."

Dean looks down at himself. "I hate this thing."

"You're not alone. What kind of damn store doesn't carry suits for women. Fuckin' people, man." Olive growls. "And, I'm practically dying in these fuckin' heels. I'm already getting blisters."

"Hey. You guys want into that warehouse or not?" Sam asks, getting in the car. Olive gets in the back, pulling the heels off and rubbing her feet.

Dean starts the Impala and they drive to the warehouse.

* * *

They enter the warehouse and show their badges to the security guard, who nods and lets them in. As they walk among plane wreckage; Dean pulls out a device and puts earbuds in his ears.

"What is that?" Sam looks at Dean, eyebrows raised.

"It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies." Dean deadpans.

"Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?" Sam gestures towards the EMF meter.

"'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade." Dean grins.

"Yeah, I can see that." Sam mumbles. Dean's grin disappears. Olive snorts.

Dean runs the EMF meter over a piece of the wreckage with yellow dust on it and gets an audible spike. "Check out the emergency door handle." He scratches at the yellow dust and gets some on his hand. "What is this stuff?" He wipes it on the back of Sam's jacket.

"One way to find out." Sam scrapes some of the yellow dust off into a bag.

* * *

Two agents in black suits approach the security desk and show their badges.

"Homeland Security? What, one team of you guys isn't enough?" The security guard gives them a confused look.

"What are you talking about?" The agent on the left asks

"Three of your buddies went inside not five minutes ago."

The second agent looks at the first.

The agents and several security guards bust in, guns drawn, and search. Sam, Dean, and Olive hear them coming and rush outside, through the back. The security guards and agents see nothing.

The siblings peer around a corner and walk out casually. An alarm blares, and they run to the gated exit. Pulling off his suit jacket, Dean throws it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence, and then climbs over. Olive kicks off her shoes and throws them over the side before climbing over the fence herself. Sam hops over and Dean grabs the jacket. Olive grabs up her shoes.

"Well, these monkey suits do come in handy." Dean mutters. He runs off. Sam and Olive follow.

* * *

Jerry looks at the yellow stuff through a microscope. "Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur."

"You're sure?" Sam asks, leaning forward in this seat.

"Take a look for yourself."

Banging sounds from outside the office. "You effin' piece of crap..." A man shouts.

"If you fellows will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire." Jerry stands up and leaves. Dean goes over and looks into the microscope. "Hey. Einstein. Yeah, you. What the heck you doing? Put the wrench down-" Jerry shouts from outside the office.

"Hmm. You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue." Dean says, looking up at his siblings.

"Demonic possession?" Olive asks, eyebrows raised.

"It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch."

"If the guy was possessed, it's possible." Sam nods.

"This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean, it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?" Olive leans off the wall. "That's fucking crazy. You ever hear of something like this before? Because I sure as hell haven't." She looks pointedly at Dean.

"Nope, never."

* * *

Dean, Sam and Olive are in full research mode, with images and articles taped to the walls and strewn across the beds, and Sam is looking at something on the computer. Dean is reading something on one bed while Olive is reading something on the other, jiggling her leg. They had been sitting here for an hour and a half already, and she was getting restless.

"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it." Sam breaks the silence.

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this." Olive gestures around herself vaguely.

"Well, that's not exactly true. You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease."

"And this one causes...plane crashes?" Dean gets up. "All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam asks. Dean snorts, turning away.

"What?" Sam and Olive ask simultaneously.

"I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah." Sam says, while Olive says, "Me too."

Dean's phone rings and he answers it. "Hello?"

 _"Dean, it's Jerry."_

"Oh, hey, Jerry." Olive and Sam look at him, paying attention to the conversation.

 _"My pilot friend...Chuck Lambert is dead."_

"Wha-Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?"

 _"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down."_

"Where'd this happen?"

 _"About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth."_

"I'll try to ignore the irony in that."

 _"I'm sorry, what?"_

"Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon." Dean hangs up.

"Another crash?" Olive and Sam ask simultaneously, shooting glares at eachother for a second before turning their attention back to their older brother. As kids, the siblings had always done that to annoy their father, but now that they were older, it proceeded to annoy the living shit out of each of them.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah. Let's go."

"Where?" Sam stands up while Olive pulls on her jacket and zips it up.

"Nazareth."

* * *

Jerry is looking through a microscope again.

"Sulfur?" Dean asks. Jerry nods. "Well, that's great. All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

"If that's the case, that would be the good news." Sam mumbles, barely loud enough for Dean and Olive to hear him. "With all due to Chuck, of course." he adds afterwords.

"What's the bad news?" Olive asks slowly.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this, so did flight 2485."

"Forty minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry butts in, a crease settling in his eyebrow.

"It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death, pretty much." Olive sighs the last part.

"I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down _exactly_ forty minutes in." Sam not only emphasises 'exactly', but pinches his forefinger and thumb together.

"Any survivors?" Dean prods.

"No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason."

 _"No survivors."_ Olive mutters, a thoughtful look on her face.

"What?" her brothers ask simultaneously.

She sits for a minute, before shooting up and snapping her fingers. "No survivors! On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP guy said?! Dudes, it's going after all the survivors! It's trying to finish the goddamn job!" She shouts, eyes wide.

* * *

Dean is driving, Sam is on the phone with Dennis Holloway, and Olive is on the phone with Blaine Sanderson.

"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks." Sam hangs up. "All right. That takes care of Dennis Holloway."

"Okay, thanks for your time, and remember...you get a free flight if you fly with us one more time. Okay, buh-bye." Olive hangs up and growls, muttering 'goddamn people' under hear breath before planting a smile on her face and looking between her brothers. "Well, Blaine surely ain't flying anytime soon."

"So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker." Dean sighs."So, where is she?"

"Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It's her first night back on the job." Sam says, pulling out a map.

"That sounds like just our luck." Dean grins.

"Dude, this is a five-hour drive, even with your reckless ass behind the wheel."

"Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass."

"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off." Sam turns his phone over in his hand.

"God, we're never gonna be able to make the fucking flight in time. Fuck." Olive growls, putting her head in her hands.

"We'll make it. Calm down." Dean dodges her worry with practiced ease.

* * *

Dean, Sam and Olive rush into the airport and check the Departure board.

"Right there. They're boarding in thirty minutes." Sam points to the flight.

"Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone." Dean picks up a courtesy phone.

" _Airport Services_."

"Hi. Gate thirteen."

" _Who are you calling, sir?_ "

"I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um..." he looks to his siblings, who whisper '4-2-4' repeatedly. "flight 4-2-4." A few minutes later, a woman answers

" _This is Amanda Walker._ "

"Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here."

" _Karen?_ "

"Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so-"

" _Wa-wait, that's impossible. I just got off the phone with her._ "

Dean pauses. "You what?"

" _Five minutes ago. She's at her house, cramming for a final. Who is this?_ "

"Uh, well...there must be some mistake."

" _And how would you even know I was here?_ " Sam and Olive crowd closer to Dean to try to hear what's going on. " _Is this one of Vince's friends?_ "

"Guilty as charged."

" _Wow. This is unbelievable._ "

"He's really sorry."

" _Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?_ "

"Yes, but...he really needs to see you tonight, so-"

" _No, I'm sorry. It's too late_."

"Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic."

" _Really?_ "

"Oh, yeah."

" _Look, I've got to go. Um...tell him to call me when I land._ " Then, the line goes dead.

"No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda! Damn it! So close."

" _Thank you for flying United Britannia Airlines._ " A woman says over the intercom.

"All right, it's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane."

"Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second." Dean is wide-eyed.

"Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash." Sam reminds him.

"I know."

"Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through the security. Meet me back here in five minutes." Dean just looks at him anxiously.

"Are you okay? You're looking a little pale there, big bro." Olive asks, looking him and down.

"No, not really."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh..." Dean gestures around himself vaguely.

"Flying?" Sam asks.

"It's never really been an issue until now."

"You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere?"

"All right. Uh, we'll go." Olive suggests, looking from the big clock on the wall to her brothers.

"What?"

"We'll do this one on our own." She tries to sound confident but, she'd never really done any hunts this big without somebody older than her. It was always dad, Dean, or, hell, Bobby. She was kinda scared.

"What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash."

"Dean, we can do all it together, or Olive and I can do this one by ourselves. I'm not seeing a third option, here." Sam reasons.

"Come on! Really? Man..."

* * *

Dean in the aisle seat, is anxiously reading the safety card, Sam is next to him, while Olive is behind them, fighting her own kind of breakdown. There were so many people on this damn thing, making it seem a lot smaller than it actually was. _Okitey dokitey, Olive, breathe. You're gonna be fine. This plane is perfectly safe, you have nothing to worry about_

"Just try to relax." Sam says to both of them, but Olive ignores him in favor of counting how many of her hairs she could grab with in one hand.

"Just try to shut up." Dean grounds out.

The plane takes off, with Dean jumping at every rumble and sound. Sam smirks.

* * *

Olive is staring at Dean's seat, still a little spooked. Dean is leaning back, humming to himself. Sam looks over. "You're humming Metallica?"

"Calms me down."

He looks back at Olive, and sighs.

"Look, I get that you guys are nervous, all right? But you gotta stay focused."

"Okay." Dean says, while Olive mutters, "No shit, Dick Tracy."

"I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism."

"Yeah, on a crowded plane. That's gonna be real easy." Olive snaps.

He sighs again. "Okay, just take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?"

"It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress."

"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up." Sam offers, looking between Dean and Olive.

"Mm-hm." Olive turns to a flight attendant. "Excuse me. Are you Amanda?"

"No."

"Oh, my mistake."

"Mm-hm."

Olive looks to the back of the plane to the other flight attendant. "All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, get a read on her mental state."

"What if she's already possessed?"

"There's ways to test that." She shrugs and goes into her bag to retrieve a shaped bottle of holy water. "I brought holy water."

"No." Sam and Dean say simultaneously.

Sam snatches the bottle and tucks it inside his hoodie. "I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."

"Oh. Cool." Olive stands and turns to go.

"Hey." Sam calls suddenly.

"What?"

"Say it in Latin."

"As I said before, 'No shit, Dick Tracy.' I know, Sam." She leaves again.

"Okay...Wait, hey!"

"Oh my-what, Sam?!" She snaps.

"Uh, in Latin, it's 'Christo'."

"Dude, I know! I'm not a fuckin' idiot!"

Olive makes her way to the back of the plane, keeping her eyes on Amanda because _holy fuck this plane is fucking packed._ When she gets to Amanda, she purposefully keeps the curtain open. _I'd end up flipping shit if I were in that small of a space after my near breakdown before. Hell...no._

Amanda is fussing with the drink cart and napkins.

"Hi." Olive says cheerily.

"Hi. Can I help you with something?"

"Nah, man. I'm just, uh, not very fond of small spaces. It makes it feel a lot roomier when I walk around a little bit."

"Oh, it happens to the best of us."

"Of course, you being a stewardess, I guess this is like, everyday to you. Probably makes this whole flying thing a lot easier."

Amanda laughs. "You'd be surprised."

"Really? You're a nervous flier?"

"Yeah, maybe, little bit."

"How is it that, being a stewardess, you're scared to fly?"

"Kind of a long story."

"Right. Sorry for asking, dude."

"It's okay."

"You ever consider other employment?"

"No. Look, everybody's scared of something. I just, uh...I'm not gonna let it hold me back."

"Hmmm."

"So..." Amanda says awkwardly.

"Christo." Olive mutters.

"I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

Olive hesitates. "Christo?"

"I-I didn't, I didn't..." Amanda trails off, staring at Olive as if she were crazy.

"Yeah, nothing. Never mind. Um, have a...pleasant evening?" Olive quickly returns to her seat.

"All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the damn planet." Olive plops down in the her seat.

"You said 'Christo'?"

"Yeah."

"And?" Dean turns to look at her.

"There's no demon in her. There's no demon _getting_ in her."

"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywh-" The plane shakes and Dean stops. "Come on! That can't be normal!"

"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence." Sam soothes.

"Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four."

"You need to calm down."

"Well, I'm sorry I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it's not helping."

"Listen, Dean, you're panicked, I get it. You're freakin' out. Hell, I am, too. I'm trapped in a giant metal bird, with a bunch of random ass people. It's a li'l creepy. But, if you're freakin' out, you're wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down. Right now." Olive sternly reminds him. "So, why don't we each take a few deep breathes, and figure this the fuck out, so we can get the fuck off'a this damn thing, capishe?"

Dean nods and they each take a long, slow breath.

"You guys good now?" Sam asks, looking them each over. They both nod, slightly uncertain. "Good enough. Now, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum."

"What do we have to do?" Dean sits up straighter.

"It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful."

"More powerful?" Dean cocks an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"How?"

"Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own."

"Oh."

"And why is that a good thing?" Olive asks.

"Well, because the second part sends the bastard back to hell once and for all."

"First things first, we got to find it."

* * *

Dean walks slowly up the aisle with his EMF meter, getting odd looks but no readings. Sam suddenly claps him on the shoulder, and he jumps.

"Ah! Don't do that."

"Anything?" Sam and Olive ask.

"No, nothing. How much time we got?"

"Fifteen." Olive says after checking her watch.

"Maybe we missed somebody." Sam suggests, looking around.

"Maybe the thing's just not on the plane."

"You _really_ willin' to believe that, though?" Olive tilts her head, a hand on her hip.

"Well, I will if you two will." Dean looks down as the EMF meter spikes. The co-pilot exits the bathroom and heads towards the cockpit.

"What?" Olive asks, while Sam asks, "What is it?"

"Christo." Dean whispers.

The co-pilot turns slowly to face them. His eyes are black. He goes into the cockpit. Dean looks at Sam and Olive. "Oh, shit."

* * *

Sam, Olive, and Dean head to the back of the plane towards Amanda.

"She's not gonna believe this." Sam shakes his head.

"Twelve minutes, dude." Olive mumbles.

"Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope." Amanda says, looking at Olive.

"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about." She says, stepping inside, beside Dean, as Sam closes the curtain.

"Um, okay. What can I do for you?"

"This is gonna sound borderline psychopathic, but we just don't have time for the whole "the truth is out there" speech right now."

"All right, look, we know you were on flight 2485." Dean jumps right in, no hesitation.

Amanda's smile disappears. "Who are you?"

"Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure." Sam continues.

"We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now." Olive finishes.

"I'm sorry, I-I'm very busy. I have to go back-"

She tries to brush past Olive, who stops her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. We ain't gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me, uh...The pilot on 2485, Chuck Lambert. He's dead." Olive rambles.

"Wait. What? What, Chuck is dead?" She stops, looking between the three siblings.

"He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?" Dean asks.

"I-"

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too. Amanda, you have to believe us." Olive pleads.

"On...on 2485, there was this man. He...had these eyes."

"Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about." Sam nods, like his head's on a damn spring.

"I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?"

"Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here."

"Why? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?" Olive looks her in the eyes.

"How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot-"

"Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit." Olive urges.

"Do you know that I could lose my job if you-"

"You're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out."

Amanda hesitates. "Okay." Amanda leaves and goes to the cockpit. She knocks on the door and says something inaudible to the copilot, who follows her back. Sam pulls out the holy water, handing it to Olive. Dean pulls out John's journal and hands it to Sam, who opens it.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" The co-pilot pulls the curtain back. Dean punches him in the face, knocking him down. He pins him down and puts duct tape over his mouth.

"Wait. What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him." Amanda demands.

"We are gonna talk to him."

Olive splashes holy water on his skin, which sizzles, while helping Dean pin him down.

"Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?" Amanda panics.

"Look. We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain." Sam says calmly.

"Well, I don't underst-I don't know-"

"Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?"

"Okay. Okay." Amanda leaves.

"Hurry up, Sam. I don't know how much longer we can hold him." Olive grunts, tightening her grip on his arms.

"Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino-"

The demon breaks free briefly and hits the three of them until Dean and Olive manage to subdue him again. Sam picks up where he left off. The demon throws Dean and Olive off again and pulls the tape off his mouth. He grabs Sam by the collar. "I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!"

Dean recovers and hits the demon as Sam sits there, stunned. Olive recovers and jumps to help Dean.

"Sammy!" Dean and Olive shout.

Sam recovers and begins reading again. He reaches for a container of holy oil, dropping the book. The thrashing demon kicks it under the curtain and down the aisle. The demon exits the co-pilot's body and disappears into a vent.

"Where'd it go?" Sam frantically looks around for the book.

"It's in the plane. Hurry up. We got to finish it."

The plane suddenly dips and heaves violently. Sam struggles to retrieve the book as Dean splays himself against the exit door, screaming. Olive trips over her foot when she goes to run to Sam's aid, and falls into the cart, that wheels into the wall. The force was enough to wind her. She falls to the floor, gasping and waiting for the inevitable.

Sam manages to grab the book and shouts the rest of the exorcism. A bright electrical charge runs through the entire plane, which then levels out.

Various people ask if everyone's okay. Amanda sighs in relief. Dean comes out from behind the curtain, followed by a heavy breathing Olive with an arm around her ribs. Sam stands up.

* * *

Amanda is being questioned by another agent. "Anything else?"

"No, that's all." She sees Sam, Olive, and Dean standing across the way and mouths 'Thank you'. They nod.

"Let's get out of here."

Dean, Sam, and Olive head for the exit. "You okay?" Dean asks when he doesn't hear anything from either of them, directing it at Sam. Olive was both in pain, having bruised her ribs, and exhausted, so he understood her silence, but Sam...well, he seemed different. Secluded. Sam stops and turns, causing Dean and Olive to stop.

"It...it knew about Jessica."

"Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. All right? That's all it was."

"Yeah."

"Come on, guys. Let's get the hell outta here." Olive says, a small smile gracing her face.

* * *

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed." Jerry shakes their hands. "Your dad's gonna be real proud."

"We'll see you around, Jerry." Sam says.

"Bye, dude. Be careful." Olive offers, turning to leave.

Dean begins to head off. "You know, Jerry," Dean starts.

"Yeah."

"I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months." Dean turns back to him.

"Your dad gave it to me."

"What?" Olive and Sam look at him with big eyes.

"When did you talk to him?"

"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call. Thanks again, guys." Jerry leaves.

* * *

"This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like a thousand times. It's been out of service for the better part of the last half-a-year."

Dean dials John's number. As the voice message begins, he turns it so Sam and Olive can hear too. _"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my kids. 785-555-0179. They can help."_

Sam fumes and gets in the car. Dean and Olive follow. They drive off.


End file.
